Novel & Cerita The Keeper Of Stories

Adrian reached the final page. Blank. Still waiting. The Pen of Endings floated beside him, glowing softly. It wanted to write. But it refused to move without Adrian's hand. The woman stepped closer. "There is something I never told you." Adrian looked at her. "You are not the first Keeper." "I know." She slowly shook her head. "No." "You are not even the first Author." Adrian frowned. "Then who wrote the first story?" Silence. The woman looked toward the endless darkness beyond the White Tree.

“Queen Lysandra.” The name hung in the air. Even the attackers seemed to hesitate. Elara’s voice was barely a whisper. “My ancestor…” The Keeper nodded. “History called her a savior.” His eyes became filled with sadness. “But history does not always know the whole story.” ⸻ With trembling hands, the Keeper opened Journal Thirty-Nine. “There is not enough time.” He looked at Elara. “You must understand something.” She leaned closer. “What?” “She was not trying to destroy the kingdoms.”

I leaned in, my eyes locked onto his lips, and whispered: "Protective like a stepfather—or jealous like a man?"

His eyes darkened instantly as they raked over me—taking in the vibrating toy, the cum leaking out around it, the wrecked state of my hole. “Couldn’t even wait till tomorrow, huh?” His voice was low, dangerous, that accent that never fail to turn me on thick with lust. He stepped inside and locked the door properly behind him. “I came back for my wallet I left in the store and the spare key… but looks like I found something better.”

There he stood and one of his men brought a small flat gold container to him, opened it and revealed six kola nuts, Chief picked up one kola nut and started chewing, the whole place was silent as he chewed, he looked round at everyone, then looked back at the man who spoke to him “Where is the manager of the ware house? “ he finally said and a man stepped forward “I am sir” Chief looked at him as he chewed slowly “What’s my most important rule in the ware house?” Chief asked without looking at him “No cash must remain in the warehouse for more than 30mins” the man said; he was clearly afraid as his voice trembled, Chief looked at him then chewed again “How long did the stolen cash stay here?

Keepers also have an exceedingly long, life span, with the oldest recorded keeper celebrating his three hundred and forty sixth birthday shortly before he died of natural causes. Due to their natural abilities Keepers, are often employed as teachers and guardians of knowledge, scholars, and researchers. I shuddered a little as my brow furrowed at the writing on the page and I absent-mindedly wondered just how old Peter was. It seemed unbelievable to me that anyone could age to be three hundred. Filing the information away for later I focused on the here and now.

The one I heard in my dreams and in that memory of Elara. “What’s a Keeper?” I asked quietly. Lydia sat down on the edge of the bed. “Keepers are ancient beings born once every few centuries. They’re extremely rare and extremely powerful.” “What do they do?” “They maintain balance. Between the living and the dead. Between all creatures. They’re almost like…” She paused, searching for words. “Walking gods, in a way.” My mouth went dry. “That’s impossible. I’m not a god.” “Not a god. But you have power that most creatures don’t. Power to affect the balance of nature itself.”

I walked slowly into my room as one without any sense of life in me and held my pillow so tight. It was my source of comfort at that time. While holding it I felt like I had a comforter and a friend. As I was drowning in my tears my door opened and I looked in surprise to see who it was because I wasn't expecting any form of comfort from anyone. I raised my already heavy eyes to see Mary “the steward” She whispered, "It's okay, hush now, ma’am. Don't let your tears affect the baby, think about your little one”. You don't have to cry so much ma.

He let out the friendliest of smiles, making Anderson very uncomfortable. Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive the stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation

He wore a crown made of white metal. Cael dropped to one knee. "No." Aria looked at him. "Who is that?" Cael whispered: "The High Keeper." The man removed his helmet. He was old. But his eyes were powerful. He looked at Aria. "Last Keeper." Aria stood her ground. "Who are you?" "I am the one who has protected this universe from your kind." "My kind?" "The creators." Aria frowned. "I am not a creator." The High Keeper smiled. "That is what makes you dangerous."